shirt to keep it warm. Its mother had been killed nearby an th hole
was swum out an th rest o th litter was dead. He s got it at home
now. He found a half-drowned young crow another time an he brought it
home, too, an tamed it. It s named Soot because it s so black, an it
hops an flies about with him everywhere.
The time had come when Mary had forgotten to resent Martha s familiar
talk. She had even begun to find it interesting and to be sorry when
she stopped or went away. The stories she had been told by her Ayah
when she lived in India had been quite unlike those Martha had to tell
about the moorland cottage which held fourteen people who lived in four
little rooms and never had quite enough to eat. The children seemed to
tumble about and amuse themselves like a litter of rough, good-natured
collie puppies. Mary was most attracted by the mother and Dickon. When
Martha told stories of what mother said or did they always sounded
comfortable.
If I had a raven or a fox cub I could play with it, said Mary. But I
have nothing.
Martha looked perplexed.
Can tha knit? she asked.
No, answered Mary.
Can tha sew?
No.
Can tha read?
Yes.
Then why doesn t tha read somethin , or learn a bit o spellin ?
Tha st old enough to be learnin thy book a good bit now.
I haven t any books, said Mary. Those I had were left in India.
That s a pity, said Martha. If Mrs. Medlock d let thee go into th
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